


Snapshots of Life

by mdr_24601



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: District 4 (Hunger Games), F/M, Finnick Odair-centric, Finnick's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: “It’s as if I’m Finnick, watching my life flash by. The mast of a boat, a silver parachute, Mags laughing, a pink sky, Beetee’s trident, Annie in her wedding dress, waves breaking over rocks. Then it’s over.”Or: The life of Finnick Odair as seen through seven moments in time.
Relationships: Annie Cresta & Mags & Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Mags & Finnick Odair
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Snapshots of Life

_**The mast of a boat** _

“Why can’t we go faster?”

Finnick’s father looked at him for a moment, then said, “Patience, Finnick. The fish will come to us. You’re eight years old now; you can stand still on a boat, don’t you think?”

“We’ve been on this boat forever,” Finnick replied with a heavy sigh. Sweat had started to gather on his forehead, and he could already feel the beginnings of a sunburn forming on his shoulders. Patience was not his strong suit. It was even harder to be patient standing in the hot sun on a still boat. Everything around him was static. 

“If you’re patient,” his dad began, adroit hands working on weaving a net, “then you can bring home fish to your mother and sister tonight.”

He grumbled, wanting nothing more than to jump off the boat and right into the water. “But it’s so hot out.”

His dad chuckled. “Borrow my hat, then.”

The hat was far too big for him, and the rim fell down his face, obscuring his vision. But it did keep the heat away, at least a little, so Finnick supposed it was worth it. “There’s one,” he said, moments later, as something moved in the water. His dad handed him the net and Finnick plunged it in, catching the fish. “I got it!”

“I knew you would,” his dad said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “What do you say we take this boat home now?”

“Finally,” Finnick said, relieved. The boat finally started moving again, the water lapping at the sides. As the sun began to set, Finnick and his father made their way home. 

* * *

**_A silver parachute_ **

Finnick opened his water canteen and allowed the contents to slide languidly down his parched throat. If he were anyone else, he would be stingier with the water, sacred as it was in the arena. But he wasn’t anyone else, and he had no shortage of sponsor gifts. He could afford to indulge in luxuries like extra water. 

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been in the arena, but it had to have been at least a week, judging by the number of parachutes he’d accumulated. While the other tributes had to fight for sponsors, Finnick had no such disadvantage. 

In many ways, that was a good thing. He wanted for nothing while he was in the arena, except for maybe to get out. At the rate he was going, though, that wouldn’t be a problem. 

He had all the food and water he could want, healing supplies and first-aid kits to last him several more weeks, and enough weapons to defend himself in case of a surprise attack. But none of these things were enough to really put him over the edge. Being fourteen in an arena of eighteen-year-olds put him at a tremendous disadvantage. If he wanted to win, he needed something extra. 

He flashed a little smile, a slight plea, in the hopes that a camera would pick up on it and the people of the Capitol would understand what he was asking for. 

Miraculously, and right on cue, a silver parachute floated down to greet him. Finnick didn’t need to unwrap anything to see what object had been delivered; it was big enough that no such covering was possible. 

The trident gleamed in the morning sunlight, beautiful and deadly, and Finnick exhaled sharply at the sight. It was nothing like the tridents back home. This one was prettier, heavier, sharper. Still, though, he’d make do. 

He gave a wide smile as a thank you, because whoever sent him the trident had all but sealed his fate. The other tributes didn’t stand a chance. 

No, he was certain that this was it. He’d won. 

* * *

**_Mags laughing_ **

“Hello, Mags,” Finnick said, opening his mentor’s large wooden door and stepping inside her house, arms laden with groceries. “I bought groceries, hope you don’t mind.”

Mags emerged from somewhere else in the house and directed him to the kitchen. “I thought they needed you at the Academy today,” she said as she opened the bags. 

Finnick grimaced. It was mandatory for most victors to volunteer at District Four’s Career Academy in their spare time, but if he was being honest, it wasn’t his favorite thing to do. “They do.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

He glanced at her expectantly for a moment before Mags sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. She knew by now, of course, why he wasn’t at the Academy like he should be. “So, mind if I stay here? You can just tell them you needed my help with something.”

“Well,” Mags said, sighing. “I am getting old. You may as well help me put away these groceries.”

To anyone else, it may have looked like a perfectly valid excuse, but everyone in District Four knew that her old age didn’t stop her from getting anything done. Still, Finnick smiled gratefully and started to unload the various items he’d bought. 

It wasn’t until moments later that Mags said his name in a cross between frustrated and amused. “What are these?” 

He looked at the item in question, then answered as innocently as he could. “Sugar cubes. For the horses, obviously.”

The two of them were able to maintain a straight face for another second longer before dissolving into laughter. Seeing Mags laugh made his heart swell in ways he couldn’t quite describe. 

Mags didn’t like sugar cubes, not even in her tea, but she kept them anyway. 

* * *

**_A pink sky_ **

“This is the best time of the day,” Annie said as she led him down the beach. “Or night, I suppose. See how pink the sky is? It’s only like this for a few minutes before the sun sets.”

Finnick took a moment to enjoy the view. It was soft and pretty and he could see what Annie liked about it. A warm breeze blew around his shoulders and through Annie’s hair, causing her to smile beside him. “It’s pretty,” he agreed. “But it’s far from the prettiest thing here.”

Even in the pink lighting, he could see her cheeks flush. “You know of a better view, then?”

“Of course,” Finnick grinned as he and Annie stepped into the ocean, getting their bare feet wet. Eyes focused on her gorgeous smile, he said, “I’m looking at it now, aren’t I?”

She laughed, bright and happy. Her white sundress swirled around her knees, moved by the wind. “Well, for the record,” she stepped closer so her lips brushed his, “I think you’re a pretty nice view, too.”

“Just pretty nice?” Finnick asked in mock hurt after they had pulled away. 

“Absolutely breathtaking,” Annie amended with a playful smile. “Is that better?”

“I think that’ll suffice.”

Annie laughed softly and laced their fingers together, continuing their walk. The beach was quiet and peaceful so late at night. Nobody was around to see the sunset, but Annie insisted on seeing it every once in a while. Finnick didn’t mind in the slightest; any opportunity to see her happy was worth it. 

She was right, though. The sky only remained pink for a few minutes as the sun continued its descent down. “Oh,” she murmured, looking up. “The pink is gone.”

“That’s okay,” Finnick replied, holding her close and pressing a soft kiss to her head. “It’ll be back tomorrow.”

* * *

**_Beetee’s trident_ **

The feeling of holding a trident again, especially one as well made as Beetee’s, was almost indescribable. Tridents were not an average part of life in Four, with most people electing to fish with nets and spears instead. But then again, Finnick was not an average District Four citizen. 

The trident was far more sophisticated than any from home would be, and more tailored to fit him than his arena tridents. In all honesty, it was the most extraordinary weapon he’d ever held. 

Although Finnick wasn’t sure it would have really mattered. It cleared his mind and sharpened his focus and distracted him from everything else, and that was really all he needed. 

The physical feeling of throwing a trident was comforting in its familiarity. His shoulders, back, and arms began to ache from the exertion, but this was the most productive he’d been in weeks, and Finnick wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon. 

“Let me know if you are unsatisfied with any of the functions,” Beetee said. “You know more about tridents than I do, I’d imagine.”

“It works great,” Finnick replied, still marveling over the sleek weapon. “Is it for propos?”

“Among other things,” the older victor responded carefully. “It’s designed to be both aesthetically pleasing and powerful.”

He paused. Throwing the trident around in training was one thing, but using it to fight brought him another level of gratification, and it was more than he’d felt in weeks. Finnick just needed to be doing something more than laying in the hospital and standing in front of cameras. Something physical, exerting. Useful. 

Beetee studied him for another moment, as if debating his next words. Then, he said, “I’m sure it will assist you greatly when the day comes.”

* * *

_**Annie in her wedding dress** _

Seeing Annie walk down the aisle, her green dress billowing out behind her, nearly knocked the air out of him. She looked radiant, eyes sparkling, curly hair pulled back halfway, leaving enough to frame her face. 

He took her hands as soon as he was able to. Even now, holding her hands in front of so many people made him wary instinctively. They had hidden their relationship for so long, kept so many things secret. The fact that they were getting married on live television for the entire country to see was nothing short of a miracle. 

And if the tears welling in Annie’s eyes were any indication, he’d bet that she was thinking the same thing. 

Using her fingertips, she tapped his hand three times, their covert signal for _I love you._

It wouldn’t be long before they would be saying those words out loud. 

His wedding was perhaps the greatest day of his life. After the official ceremony, the chairs were cleared and the room emptied to create a dance floor. Traditional District Four music was helpfully supplied by a fiddler from District Twelve, and the people attending the wedding clapped to the beat as he and Annie danced. 

“That dress looks gorgeous on you,” he said as they swayed to the music. “I like the green.”

“So do I,” Annie replied, almost giddy with excitement. “Anyway, I thought of you when I picked it out. Because it matches your eyes.”

“And yours,” he pointed out. “We do technically have the same eyes.”

She shrugged. “Sure, but I had enough people thinking of what colors would bring out my eyes.”

“Oh, the prep team. Hope they weren’t too intense.”

“No, they were fine,” she said with a small shrug. “I think we’re all just glad for a little festivity around here.”

He took her hand and spun her around, watching as the dress fanned out at her ankles. “Personally,” he said, leaning close, “I’m just glad to be here with you.”

* * *

_**Waves breaking over rocks** _

One of Finnick’s favorite places in the entire district was a particularly rocky section of the beach. The rocks were flat enough to sit on if you were far enough from the shoreline, and he and Annie and Mags brought lunches there for picnics. It was peaceful and quiet and secluded, just their little place. 

“It’s warm,” Annie commented one afternoon as the hot sun beat down on them. “I should’ve brought a hat.”

“Here, you can borrow mine.” Finnick offered her his own hat and she put it on her head. 

“Thanks. Think I can make this the new fashion trend?” The hat was too big and sat lopsided on her head, and the image of the fashion oriented Capitol citizens wearing it made him laugh. 

“If you tried hard enough, I bet it would catch on.”

Mags only smiled fondly and shook her head. “Open the basket, boy.”

Finnick sent one last grin at Annie before opening their picnic basket. Mags and Annie peered over his shoulders to see what he’d packed. For the next few minutes, they silently passed the food around and ate, watching the waves crash over the rocks. 

His time on the beach with Mags and Annie was quiet and relaxing, and Finnick treasured every minute of it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of an impulse decision to write, but I hope you enjoyed anyway! <3


End file.
